Only What's Coming
by Onions Make Me Cry
Summary: Jimmy only gives people what's coming to them, but has he ever considered what's coming for him? Gary Smith has a plan. The king is coming down. Gary/Jimmy, Jimmy/the whole school


CANIS CANEM EDIT

Only What's Coming  
by Onions Make Me Cry -

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ONE -

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"Come on, let's get out of here! " Petey pled, sitting hunched low in the old red folding chair. He looked distinctly like a rabbit amongst wolves today, surrounded by a large crowd of his fellow schoolmates, whom were particularly boisterous and loud for the afternoon's event. The boy cowered a little from his spot at Jimmy's right, ignoring the boxing match almost entirely.

Jimmy Hopkins had always liked the hot packing sounds of hard flesh. They rung out to him where he sat with his arms folded over the back of his seat, and his sneakers kicked up on the back of the chair in front of him. He listened with his head tilted a little to the side, and a kind of blandly thoughtful expression had taken residence up on his blunt, freckly face. Something about it... he had never quite been sure what it was, considering he didn't really condone violence unless it was really really especially necessary. (For... educational purposes... at the very least.) But nonetheless, there it was; the sweaty, heavy connection of solid living flesh and bone. As an observer, it was enough to get him a little lathered, and so it was that he watched the match with a great internal fervor, blind to the handful of surrounding students who in turn were shooting him the same kind of look.

"Can't we go?" Jimmy ignored Petey's anxious pleading, and instead cast his eye out to coast across the crowd. Every 'Whose-Who' of Bullworth Academy had turned up to observe their only legally annual slaughterfest of the season; The Bullworth All-Academy Bare-Knuckle Boxing Challenge. It was open to anyone with balls big enough to sign up, but as usual, Derby's brood of beautiful, blood-hungry inbreeds were dominating any and all competition. Peanut and Johnny Vincent had taken a stand earlier in the day, but after a gruesome and unexpectedly messy twenty-five minutes, both had been laid out, Peanut with a tooth imbedded in his own knee.

"Jimmy, come on! Let's go!"

Across the ring, Jimmy could see Pinky and Lola screaming at each other, though exactly what about was lost in the roar of the fight and the crowd. A glimpse of a half-empty box of chocolates and an especially motley hickey on Lola's neck was somewhat of a tip-off though, and for a moment, Jimmy inadvertently attempted to look nondescript.

"Jimmy!"

"What is it, Petey?" The heavier boy finally exploded, turning halfway in his seat to peer at his small friend. "What's wrong? Don't worry man, I won't let anybody beat the crap out of you. You're with me, remember"

"N-no, it's n-not that..." the boy stuttered, ever insecure of his own words in the face of teasing. "It's j-just, all these people, Jimmy! All in one place! What if something, you know, were to..."

"...happen?"

"Happen! I mean, I saw the way Kirby was looking at Vance before everybody went inside... That's usually the look he gives me before he shoves my head in the toilet after he's taken a leak."

Jimmy semi-successfully swallowed a snort before speaking. "... did that really happen?"

"Listen to me!" Pete's indignant tone bristled up with his posture, and a few students turned around in their seats to find the location of the shrillness.

"Alright, Jesus, " Jimmy finally succumbed, waving his friend's anger off, until he sat quietly back against his seat again. "What if something happens? Shit, I guess then Derby will be happy, because then he and his guys can kick the shit outta everybody here for real."

"How come you always do that?"

"Do what?"

There was incrimination in Petey's voice, though it was somewhat subdued, and maybe even a little sad. "How can you talk about violent things like they don't really matter? Like... Like they're not a big deal?"

Offering a noncommittal grunt, Jimmy folded his thick arms across his chest. He looked like an impenetrable fortress. "Dunno. I guess because... shit happens sometimes, and you can't control that. I just give people what they've got coming to them."

the crowd roared with pleasure, and Jimmy looked up just in time to see a fat jock hit the floor with a sweaty, mountainous crash.

"Yeah, but what if Gary-"

"Christ, Petey! Enough already! You're making me miss the match! Could you just chill the hell out for ten minutes?"

Silenced, Pete sullenly looked down at his feet, which took up idly kicking at the back of the seat in front of him. But that too was ended abruptly as well, when the greaser sitting there turned around and offloaded a string of blistering threats.

The world was full of sounds. Shuffling feet in high-laced boots flitted back and forth beneath the red and blue slashes of rope marking the barrier of the ring. Eye level of the crowd met the match there, at the ankles, so the majority of the audience sat with faces turned upward in almost worshipful adoration, each student in turn lusting for the excitement of blood. A certain energy had taken the room, that much was obvious... It was a kind of vibrating tenseness, as much from every faction of students in such close proximity of one another, as it was to the violent and somewhat messy matches happening at the center of the boxing club. So many people had squashed into the tiny first floor of the town center that those without chairs were forced to climb higher. That, or oust less fortunate students out of the back chairs in favor of a better view of the sea of blue and gold and green and white. The crowd quivered with the ominous threat of violence, and though it didn't frighten him, Jimmy could see the reason for Petey's anxiety. This match simply proved things; it was business as usual at Bullworth.

Pete sighed. "I kind of hate boxing."

That comment was immediately followed up by a loud yelp, and Jimmy took his hand back with an admonishing look, Petey rubbing the sore spot on the back of his head.

"You know," a smooth voice wafted up, from somewhere behind. "... the more you beat a dog, the more I hear it crawls back on it's belly looking for love."

Jimmy did a double-take over his shoulder, then let loose a long, slow groan. "Shit"

"Hi Gary." Pete appeared to shrink two sizes in his seat.

With a heavy hand, Gary Smith leaned down between the two boys, unceremoniously shoving Petey a good quarter-foot out of the way. "Brute-fisted as always, I see. And poor poor Petey over here left to pick up the pieces of his broken heart! But then again, it really is difficult to debate with such blunt governance. Hopkins here can't help it if he has the brain capacity of a mongoloid. Can you, Hopkins?"

"What do you want?" Jimmy questioned, trying to find something else to settle his eyes on.

"Oh, come now Jimmy, what's a few words between good, good friends?"

Shooting Pete a dull sort of 'can-you-believe-this-shit?' look over Gary, Jimmy leaned back and tried to shove the arm on his shoulder off again. "Do you even know what that word means? You forgot to take your medicine today, _pal_."

"Well, I suppose you're almost right about that, friend," Gary mused, unperturbed. His ousted arm came up again as well, this time wrapping around Jimmy's neck uncomfortably closely. "If I hadn't flushed it, sold it, or blown it up my nose already, then I would have taken my medicine today, yes."

So that was why he was so twitchy... Gary's pulse was racing where his wrist was pressed up against Jimmy's neck. He was also radiating heat like a furnace, despite the fact that he'd abandoned his usual school vest in favor of just the shirt. Resplendent in white, he'd rolled his sleeves up to the elbow, and moved with an air of having just managed to successfully shove a child in front of a hurtling bus and gotten away from the crime scene without a single stain.

"Don't you have something smarter to do? Like figure out how to burn down the gym or something?"

Gary laughed, a sharp, obviously fake sound. "Goodness, now there's an idea. I'll keep that one in mind, Hopkins, thanks!" he rubbed his free hand across Jimmy's scalp, much like one rubs a Bhudda belly for luck. "Who knew something so good could come out of something so hollow?" Jimmy glared, and Gary planted an obnoxiously wet smack on the side of his victim's face. The resulting struggle knocked at a few hitherto unaware students, still in their seats, but ended up much the same, with Gary's arm still wrapped tightly around Jimmy's neck.

It had always bothered Jimmy how close together Gary had always insisted on physically bringing them whenever he was around in public, and it showed now on the shorter boy's face. He had always supposed it had something to do with the sour jokes Gary made about Jimmy's sexual confusion, but it had been Pete who had been the first to suggest that it might have been jealousy instead. That one had left Jimmy stumped and uncomfortable, and ultimately, still without a good answer other than he still hated Gary Smith the same amount as he had before. But then again, nobody really questioned any of Jimmy's choices in romance. It was well known that he had no qualms about beating the living shit out of those that said unsavory things about him, and so it had been some time since anyone had made so much as a peep on the subject.

Nobody, except Gary.

Something about the day was irking Jimmy, and it was making him sweat beneath his uniform. Passing it up as the threat of imminent carnage, in the ring or otherwise, he shook off the strangeness and looked back to the match.

"So, lovebirds, how's the date going?" Gary muscled through the crack between the two chairs, finally relinquishing his chokehold on Jimmy's neck, and instead immediately sitting sideways in Jimmy's lap, much to the boy's indignation. "What do you think, Hopkins, dinner and a show, maybe some nice flowers from outside the girl's dormitory? You suppose femboy over here'll put out tonight?"

"Hey!" the first protest from Pete since Gary's arrival rose up weak and quavering. "Come on, can't you just leave us alone for once?"

"Leave you alone?" Gary's eyebrows shot up theatrically. "Together? Never."

"Alright, that's it," something in the chilling way Gary had said 'never' had suddenly sent all of Jimmy's hairs standing on end. "Get off! Get the hell outta here, Gary man, we're trying to watch some boxing."

Gary remained irrevocably seated, feeling suddenly fifteen pounds heavier. "Boxing? You call this driveling rabble a boxing match? I thought that muscle was your expertise, Hopkins. Why aren't you up there putting them in their place?"

"What's the point? I only give people what's coming to them." Had he always felt so deadpan? It suddenly seemed difficult to focus. Gary smelled like clean cotton and Old-spice and leather.

"Ever consider what you have coming, Jimmy?" the boy's suddenly hushed voice purred, and Jimmy sharply looked up just as an arm snaked down to sandwich between them in a place out of view of the crowd. They locked eyes, and Gary ran a careful fingernail along the bulge in Jimmy's pants.

The world was white hot and stiflingly loud as the shorter boy forcibly leapt to his feet, dumping Gary on the chairs in front of them. It took a full nine seconds before he understood that the roar in his brain was actually the roar of his angry classmates, and of Gary, sprawled out and laughing from the floor.

"What happened?" Petey looked on, still seated, and apparently mystified.

At that, Gary's laughter grew distinctly heartier, and the world was full of quizzical, piercing eyeballs.

Turning on his heel, Jimmy stalked out of the boxing hall, laughter, and the packing sounds of flesh following him out.

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/TBC/


End file.
